Max: Hey Kris!
Kristen: I LOVE HER PLATONICALLY YOU HEINOUS SLAG SO FUCK RIGHT OFF AND DIE!
Max: WTF?!
Kristen: OH MY GOD! WRONG CONVERSATION! I'M SO SORRY MAX I DIDN'T MEAN YOU!
Max: I really hope not!
Kristen: I'm so so so sorry. That was supposed to be for my roommate! She saw what I texted you about Ms. Victoria and she's been giving me so much shit about it!
Max: Seriously?
Kristen: It's horrible! She's such a fucking bitch! I thought I was done with this high school bullshit!
Max: Oh no! That's terrible! :(((((((
Kristen: It's not your fault. I've already talked to student housing about getting a room reassignment. There's no way I'm putting up with this all year.
Max: Everything is okay otherwise? You're liking it there?
Kristen: Oh, hell yeah. :)
Kristen: My classes are awesome. My teachers are awesome. The campus is awesome. Even my dorms are awesome, if you don't include the fucking troll I have to share a room with.
Kristen: And even having to deal with her is a small price to pay.
Max: So no regrets about abandoning me for California?
Kristen: Nope!
Max: Haha! Ouch!
Max: Seriously, though, that's awesome. I'm happy you're happy.
Max: Mostly happy, at least.
Max: Because that makes me happy, too.
Kristen: Are you high right now?
Max: What?!
Kristen: No judgement! Those last couple of messages just had kind of a "I'm baked and texting all my friends" vibe. :P
Max: I'm not high! I'm just really glad you're doing well and I wanted to tell you that! :(
Kristen: Alright, alright! Sorry!
Kristen: So, what did you want before I dumped my roommate drama on your lap?
Max: Just checking in to see how you're doing.
Max: I was going to say that I'm really glad we're friends, but now I'm not so sure...
Kristen: Ha ha. Funny girl. I'm glad we're friends, too.
Kristen: Shit! I totally forgot! I showed your book to one of my teachers a couple of weeks ago!
Max: Seriously?! Are you just handing out free copies on the street now?!
Kristen: Be annoyed later.
Kristen: Anyway, he really liked it, so he showed it to some people he knew. They must've liked it too, because they're interested in talking to you about optioning the film rights.
Max: ...
Max: What?
October 3, 2015
"I'm so glad you could make it for dinner," Mom smiles, a little nervously. "It feels like we haven't had you over in forever."
It takes a lot more effort than I like to keep from rolling my eyes. It's been two weeks since my birthday, and my parents are still walking on eggshells. I've told them again and again that I'm not mad, and neither is Victoria. I might've been taken a little off guard by their assumption, but as Victoria pointed out, they really did have plenty of reasons to believe the two of us were dating.
That said, I wish they'd said so either before we'd ordered our food, or after we'd finished. The waiter had barely walked away when Dad had oh-so-innocently asked, 'So, do you two have any special plans of your own for Max's birthday?'. Then came the confusion, then shock, then embarrassment, then thirty minutes of eating in awful, stifling silence. Possibly the only thing that kept the whole dinner from spiraling into hell was the fact that Victoria actually is gay. I don't even want to imagine the god-tier levels of horrifying awkwardness that my parents would've been crushed under if she were straight.
Honest to god, I might've had to stop them from trying to commit ritual suicide with a butter knife, right there at the table.
But while Victoria and I got over it after a couple of days, they're still acting like they've committed some kind of social war crime. They're practically on the edges of their seats right now, possibly waiting for me to explode or something.
"I know, right?" I reply, trying to sound as casual as possible "Totally my fault. I just let time get away from me."
"No, it's fine!" Dad insists. "You're all good, kiddo."
Normally I'd tease him about referring to a twenty-year-old woman as 'kiddo' but I feel like doing that will just trigger another avalanche of apologies. I'm annoyed enough as it is, trying to ignore how uncomfortable my tightly braided hair is. I don't need anything else irritating me.
As subtly as possible, I reach up to rub the taut skin above my ear. I really need to learn how to do it myself. Victoria means well, but she's been sporting her signature pixie cut since she was eleven and had to learn how to braid my hair on YouTube. And that would be fine if her technique couldn't be mistaken for some kind of bondage thing. But it's not like I have any other options. Mom has a strict 'no hats at the dinner table' policy that even Chloe's beanie wasn't immune to, and I really don't want to try explaining why my hair is six inches longer than it has any right to be.
"So, how is Vic-ow." Dad winces a little. Beside him, Mom smiles like she didn't just step on his toe to keep him from saying Victoria's name. That's it; time to put an end to this.
"Okay, seriously. I already told you that I'm not angry that you thought Victoria was my girlfriend. Victoria isn't angry, either. Literally no one is angry about that." I pause to let that (hopefully) sink in before continuing. "What is making me angry is the way the two of you have been acting the last two weeks. You're both so tense I feel like I could bounce a quarter off either one of you."
They share a guilty look that I choose not to point out.
"I am literally begging you to relax," I continue. "If it helps, I'm officially striking that whole evening from the record. It never happened, and we're never going to speak of, think about, or apologize for it again? Sound good?"
"I suppose you're right, Max." Mom nods. "We're..."
"Whatever you're going to say," I interrupt. "It had better not include the word sorry."
Objectively speaking, it's pretty hilarious to watch Mom (the lawyer) short circuit as she tries to come up with a way to apologize for almost apologizing, after I specifically asked her to stop apologizing. That's probably why I'm happy to let her flounder for a few seconds before I change the subject.
"So, Victoria and I are going down to California next week." The casual declaration seems enough to break through their wall of awkward embarrassment.
"What?" Dad asks. "Why?"
"It's the middle of the semester," Mom adds. "Don't you both have classes?"
We don't, because neither of us bothered signing up for anything this semester. Just another one of the many things my parents don't need to know. "It's just for a couple of days. Her Aunt Jessica got me meetings with a couple of publishing houses in San Francisco."
Their attitudes flip like a switch. "Really? Sweetheart, that's fantastic news!"
"They're just meetings," I stress, just in case this whole thing doesn't work, and I end up having to explain myself later. Like Victoria said, it's safer to assume life will go on. "No guarantees."
"It's still amazing, Max," Dad insists, grinning. "We're so proud of you. Our daughter, the future bestselling author."
"One thing at a time. I'm not published yet," I remind him, obviously not adding that I never will be, because it was all one big fake. I wish I weren't so unhappy about that.
"Don't worry about that. You wrote a great book, and you're going to have publishers lined up around the block."
"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Dad. It's been..." I search for the right word. "...an experience."
"It must have been," Mom agrees. "The effect it's had on you is amazing." She and Dad share a look. "We were so worried about you last spring, but we just didn't know how to help. Then Victoria appeared and it was like you just came back to life."
"Uh...thanks?"
"All we're saying is that we're so happy to see you smiling again," she continues.
"And we know you're gonna knock their socks off in California," Dad adds, grinning.
Looking at the happiness in their eyes, I'm suddenly blown away by how amazing my parents are. They've always looked out for me, always been there when I needed them, and they've never once asked for anything in return.
They've never even brought up how much Chloe's cancer treatments must have cost them. They refuse to even talk about it. For them, it was a given. Chloe needed help, so they helped without the slightest hesitation. From what I've read, even with our insurance it probably would've been more than a hundred thousand dollars. But they paid it, and they even found enough money to help me pay for college, too. I'm pretty sure they had to re-mortgage the house to cover it all, and then how did I thank them?
By failing most of my classes and getting angry when they tried to help me.
I love my parents so, so much. I owe them more than I could ever hope to repay.
"Thanks," I murmur, refusing to cry. "I'll do my best."
"And we'll always be proud of you for that," Mom insists. "We want to hear all about it when you get home, alright?"
I feel a sharp pang in my chest. They've got no idea that I probably won't be coming back at all. But then, if everything works out, they'll never have been in a position to miss me.
"You got it," I answer. "I'll fill you in on everything just as soon as I'm back in Seattle." Which will hopefully be about two years ago. "I promise."
Max: Hey Eugene. How's Fernando?
Fernando: Har har. [ref:/not_found]
Max: Umm...
Fernando: Ugh! My phone has been really glitchy lately. That was supposed to be an eye-roll emoji.
Max: Well, when the machines take over the world, at least you'll be ahead of the curve.
Fernando: That's why I like you, Max. You always see the silver lining.
Max: Seriously, though, how's life in Eugene? I hear it's the party capital of Lane County.
Fernando: Oh yeah. It's off the hook, yo. [ref:/ not_found]
Max: Um...?
Fernando: Unamused face.
Max: Poor Fernando! :(
Fernando: Yeah, it turns out that sophomore classes actually require some effort.
Max: You're enjoying it, though? Like, if you could go back and choose again, you'd pick the same school?
Fernando: Yeah, for sure. Why do you ask? UW not doing it for you anymore?
Max: Just checking in. Making sure you're doing okay. :)
Fernando: Ugh! Quit it, mom! You're embarrassing me!
Max: So I guess you don't want me to send you any of the brownies I made?
Fernando: I immediately withdraw my sarcasm.
October 6, 2015
Thump!
"...huh?" Startled awake, I peer angrily out from under my nice, cozy comforter.
Thump!
"The hell...?" Blinking, I turn to my bedside clock. It takes a second for my eyes to focus on the numbers. "Are you kidding me?"
Thump!
It's seven-thirty am. It's seven-thirty in the fucking morning, on a Saturday. What the hell is the meaning of this? Who the hell is making all this noise? I swear to god, if it's that little punk from next door again I'll make him regret the day was born. He'll need therapy for the rest of his goddamn life.
Thump!
Pulling on my robe (I don't care how pissed off I am; I'm not about to give that little shit a free show) and stomping down the stairs, I practically rip the front door open and storm outside to find...Max throwing a basketball at the house?
"Max? What the hell?"
"Morning, Victoria." She doesn't look at me as she picks up the ball (that definitely isn't mine) from the ground.
"What are you doing?"
"Bouncing this ball off the house."
"Yeah, I noticed. Why?"
"I'm trying to hit the same spot on the ground twice in a row."
I hope that wasn't supposed to explain things, because it really doesn't. "Again, why?"
"Because I keep trying and I keep missing and now I'm annoyed at it." Thump! "Damn it."
I should probably be more concerned about this than I am, but it isn't totally unexpected. With the big day coming up fast, Max has been pretty on edge. That said, I feel like there might be something else at work here. Peering at the large to-go coffee cup next to her feet, I ask, "So what's in that?"
"No idea." Thump! "Damn it!"
"How could you not know?"
"I couldn't sleep last night so this morning I walked over to that coffee place over on Lynn Street and told the guy to make me something with some kick and I drank most of it on the walk back." She points vaguely behind her. "I got you one too." Thump! "Argh!"
Sure enough, another large cup sits on the hood of my car. Curious, I pick it up to read the writing on the side and almost drop it again in shock. "There's nine shots of espresso in this!"
"I thought it tasted kinda strong." Thump! "Stupid ball!"
When I'm sure she's not looking, I take the lid off my 'coffee' and pour it out. I'm surprised that it doesn't burn the grass away on contact. "Okay...I'm just gonna go inside now."
"Okay." Thump!
"You going to be alright out here?"
"I'm good." Thump!
"I'll come get you when breakfast is ready."
"Hey, Victoria?" Thump!
"Hm?"
Picking up the ball again, she turns to face me. "It's really cool that you came out to see if I was alright since I'm pretty sure I must have woken you up and I'm really sorry about that since being your roommate is probably the happiest I've been since Chloe passed away and you're a really great friend and if you're making breakfast I'd like some scrambled eggs please."
She's turned back before I have time to respond, tossing the ball at the house just like before.
"Uh...okay."
Walking back inside, I'm halfway to the kitchen when I remember we're out of eggs, and all the way dressed before I realize that I didn't even hesitate before deciding to walk to the store and buy more. And just like that, I'm struck by the fact that Max is going to be gone in a few days and that a small part of me doesn't want her to go, because I was so lonely before and I don't want to lose my only friend.
I know she has to, though. And the way bigger part of me can accept that. And besides, it's not like I'll be around to miss her.
Wow, okay. Enough of this angsty bullshit. I gotta go buy some eggs. I wonder if Max would be willing to put down her precious basketball long enough to come for a walk? At least it'd help her burn off some of that energy.
I should go ask.
"...hello?"
"Hi, Steph."
"...Max?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"..."
"Hello?"
"Better be a good question to call me at three in the morning."
"It's only two."
"Colorado, Max. Mountain time. Like it matters this early."
"Shit. Sorry. I'll just let you go."
"No, no, I'm awake now. Ask away."
"...is Hannah being selfish?"
"Who? Wait, you mean the girl in your book, right?"
"Right. Isn't it selfish for her to steal two years from the entire world just to save less than 1500 people? To take away everything that everyone has accomplished in that time and rewrite the world based on what she wants? I mean, there's no guarantee she'll succeed. She might even make things worse."
"..."
"Steph?"
"...that's some pretty heavy shit to lay on a girl this early in the morning."
"Sorry."
"S'fine. Just gimme a second here."
"Sure."
"Alright. Here's my three AM, pre-coffee opinion. I don't think it's selfish at all. Most of the stuff she's undoing is still going to happen, right? She's not changing everyone's lives. She's one person, so she probably can't, even with time travel powers."
"I guess."
"Besides, that's not what the book is really about, is it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, Max. You're a great writer, but it's pretty obvious who her best friend is based on. It's not about Hannah going back to save the town. It's about you going back to save Chloe."
"I...uh...I tried to be subtle."
"You were. Most people wouldn't see it. I did because I went to school with her. Victoria would have, too, if she didn't know from the start. And for what it's worth, I don't think it's remotely selfish for you to want to go back and save her. Who wouldn't want the power to do that?"
"What if...what if it was real, though? Like, actually real. What if someone gave you the power to go back. Would you do it? Even if it meant risking everything?"
"You better believe I would."
"Really?"
"To save the love of my life? No power in the 'verse could stop me."
"Nerd."
"Guilty. Can I go back to bed now?"
"I actually had one last question, if that's okay?"
"Fine. Lay it on me."
"Are you happy, living in Haven Springs?"
"..."
"Steph?"
"Yeah, I am. I really am."
"Good. I'm glad. Now, go back to sleep."
"If you insist. Bye, Max."
"Goodbye, Steph."
October 7, 2015
"I still can't believe I wrote a novel."
"So you did."
"A novel, Victoria. An actual, hundred-and-ten-thousand-word novel. And I enjoyed writing it, too. Like, a lot more than I thought I would."
"You know, normally I'd be looking for a way to deflate your ego right now, but I'm actually really proud of you."
"You are?"
"Of course I am. You wrote an entire novel, Max. And you did it in just two months. That's pretty amazing."
"Well, with the rewinds it was technically longer tha-"
"Just take the fucking complement, will you?"
"Sorry. Thanks"
"You're welcome. You know, if we weren't going to undo things, I'd say you really should try sending it to publishers."
"Seriously?"
"Sure. Assuming you got that dedication figured out?"
"I actually did."
"Well, don't keep me in suspense. Last I checked, you were still waffling between Chuck E. Cheese and the Jolly Green Giant."
"Which is partially why I decided to put two dedications. The first one reads 'For my dearest Chloe; my soulmate, crewmate, and partner in crime. I found you again in these pages, even if you never left my heart'."
"Aww."
"Aww?"
"What? That's sweet."
"Is it, now?"
"Oh, quit looking at me like that and tell me the other one."
"Whatever, ya big softy. The other one says, 'And for Victoria; my editor, navigator, and best friend. I'd have been lost without you."
"You're damn right you would've been. You're basically helpless."
"Gee, thanks."
"You're welcome. Do we have everything?"
"Car's packed, snacks bought, playlists set. We're ready."
"Did you...uh...still want to stop at the cemetery on the way out of town?"
"Yes, please."
"Is it weird that I feel like I'm going to miss this house? If this works then my family will still own it. The other me will never even know the difference."
"I know I'm definitely going to miss it. The two of us made some really good memories here."
"Quit flirting with me, Caulfield."
"I'm not...oh, just get in the damn car."